Remember Me
by ProcrastinationNation
Summary: Something is off come Remembrance Day. Or is it? Is Hermione just imagining things?
1. Remembering Remembrance

Based off the series by JK Rowling, as well as a loose adaptation of the video game _Remember Me_

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* * *

><p><strong>Fall, 1998<strong>

"I still can't believe George is letting you run the shop by yourself today."

"Really, Hermione? You still have no faith in me."

"You know that isn't how I meant it, Ron."

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley stood in the storage rooms within Weasley's Wizards Wheezes, stocking up the joke shop for the day's sales. George Weasley, Ron's brother, wasn't coming into work that day. A fact that Hermione found very…

"…peculiar. George usually spends all day and all night in the shop working himself tirelessly since the war and…"

Ron dropped a box of Rubby O'Chickens during Hermione's sentence, which managed to bounce out and do an Irish step dance.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Hermione hastily apologized, bending over to restock the chickens. Ron stood frozen. She felt so insensitive by almost mentioning Fred's death. George lost his twin, but Ron lost his brother too. He wasn't grieving any less.

"I meant to say that I'm really proud of you, Ron. You must've shown George how useful you are around here," Hermione said to a still Ron. She handed Ron the now collected box of chickens hoping to drive him out of his reverie. It worked. Ron gave a slight tremor before flashing Hermione a toothy grin.

"Of course I'm useful, Hermione. Mum thinks I have a knack for business, kind of like Bill does with Gringotts. But I figure she'd have my head if I try a career anything less than safe in her eyes."

"And what could possibly be safe in Molly Weasley's eyes?" she asked walking close to Ron. She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes with a soft smile.

"Knitting comes to mind."

Hermione laughed as Ron broke from her embrace to continue restocking shelves.

"Perhaps singing and dancing even," Ron continued. "Although I could always break my ankle trying to waltz." He finished stocking the box and turned to face Hermione. "And you remember me fourth year, I was shit at the waltz."

"If I remember fourth year, you hardly danced at all."

"And you danced too much." He held out his arms for her to walk into, giving her a tight hug and resting his head atop of hers. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your free day in Diagon Alley– waking up early and helping me restock."

Pulling away, she smiled at Ron. "It's alright. I'm just glad I got to see you. I feel like I've hardly seen you since term started."

"Well the shop has been hectic and you were the one who insisted on going back to Hogwarts."

"And you know why I did, Ron," she stated in an exacting tone.

Ron groaned, "Bloody hell, let's not start this again."

"No, maybe we should. Obviously you don't understand my reasoning towards going back to school and I've explained to you and to Harry…"

Ron put a finger to her lips to quiet her. Then he gave her a soft, lingering peck that made her sigh with content.

"I don't want to argue with you. I want to finish stocking these shelves then spend a few moments with you before Verity comes and the store opens."

They remained in silence, with Ron continuing to stock before Hermione decided to fill it. "Are you nervous?"

"Well, do I need to be? I can handle any of the little innocent kids that come my way."

"Innocent? Ron, they're whatever you can imagine 13 and older schoolchildren to be. Anxious, rowdy, and ready to spend their galleons."

"Why can't they all be like me at that age?"

"Then George would never leave you to run the shop alone. He'll never leave himself to run the shop alone."

"Again, with the no faith."

"No, it's just that you and Harry were no model students at that age."

They walked up towards the front where Ron began to fiddle with the cash register.

He sighed in apology. "Again, I'm sorry, 'Mione. We should be getting lunch together or something."

"And again it's fine." She came from behind to hug him around the waist. "I'm just happy to see you."

Just then, their store associate, Verity, walked in–her bouffant hair seeming bigger than ever. Hermione immediately dropped her arms from around Ron and stepped aside him. She disliked showing affection in front of a crowd.

"I know I'm early, Ron, I'd just thought I'd come in and help you restock everything," Verity said. She spared Hermione no attention, as if she didn't exist.

Ron flashed her a toothy grin while saying thanks. "I've pretty much handled everything, but you can take a look in the back to see if I've missed anything."

"I'm sure you didn't." She gave him a look that didn't sit well with Hermione before she sauntered her way into the back stock room.

"Hello, Verity," Hermione stated in a no nonsense tone.

Verity gave her a slight head nod before eventually disappearing. Hermione immediately stared at Ron for commentary, one he didn't provide.

Crossing her arms, and stonily saying, "Verity is helpful," Hermione wanted Ron to say something.

"She is," he responded, closing the cash register. Hermione frowned slightly. Maybe she was being paranoid. He kissed her on the forehead before he turned towards the stockroom. "I'd best bet getting ready."

"Yeah," she said downcast. "Floo later tonight?"

"I'd can't. Knowing George, he'd want to sit me to and tell him exactly what happened today."

"Where is he, by the way?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure. He told me the Ministry and that it could take an hour or all day."

"Okay. Perhaps I'll send you a post then."

"Then I'll be waiting for a post."

Ron leaned forward to give her one last kiss before she departed the store. The chiming sound of the door seemed to echo in the alley.

* * *

><p><strong>Spring, 2002<strong>

The alarm sound of her clock sounded through the room. Hermione, bushy hair and all, reached from her duvet to turn the offending sound off. Getting out of bed would mean starting a day she dreaded so much. Slowly shifting herself to a sitting position before she stood to walk to the bathroom, she glanced at the calendar on her wall. May 2nd, it read, as clear as day.

Her apartment stood quaintly within the confines of muggle Newcastle, as part of her newly created role as Governess of Muggle Liaisons with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had the week off and today was a known wizarding mourning day.

She took a quick shower and magically dried her hair, before she was dressed and grabbing some fruit for breakfast.

She feared she'd be late to the Burrow. Hermione always spent Remembrance Day there. Hermione would usually help Molly cook and prepare for everyone. While the sadness of the day hung over everyone's head like a rain cloud, there was a silver lining. It was Victoire's 1st birthday. Hermione could never forget the hectic atmosphere that led to her birth last year.

Bill hadn't wanted Fleur to travel anywhere during the last couple of weeks in her pregnancy. Fleur, hormonal and authoritative, commanded Bill to move out of the way as she headed toward the floo to head over to the Burrow. Fleur started going into labor in the fireplace.

Bill was freaking out, understandably, on the other side of the connection at Shell Cottage while Molly helped coach Fleur and her granddaughter's entrance into the world. Ron had passed out when he saw Fleur on the floor, which George was sure to take a picture of, to cement Ron's embarrassment. It was the first time Hermione could recall George laughing since the war.

Victoire's birth brought a therapeutic relief to the mourning day, but the Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione had all still grieved for what was lost. But looking at the newest Weasley, it made Hermione cry. She was a light of hope and innocence in a world she long thought tainted by the ramifications of war.

Her job with the Department was just a customary title really. Muggle borns, for the most part, had no substantial knowledge of the war and the Ministry wanted to keep it as such. Hermione, along with a different Hogwarts professor or alumnus, would travel to the home of a muggle born, explain the war in the most fundamental of terms, further explain the war of over and the magical world was doing its best to rebuild itself. Many parents were skeptical; they would laugh and look at her with a dubious stare. But the child would likely believe Hermione and look at her with worry and apprehension.

Hermione would escort many of the muggle born wizards and witches to King's Cross a day early for an orientation many of the former Order members would sanction. She never went though, deciding the event best for Hogwarts staff and the Order to control. On the second to last day of schooling, she would follow up with many of the first years that were reported happy, active, and fitting in with their peers. She believed her job was almost too easy.

Hermione ran off into a deserted muggle street to successfully apparate into the Valediction of Fallen Victors, a small, commemorative park within Wizarding London designated for the fallen of the second war. It was usually packed any other Remembrance Day, but today the park was deserted.

If you didn't count Hermione standing at the entrance, looking confused.

She walked up to the center statue. The beautiful thing about the park was the sculptures erected, as well as a wall for everyone's name that passed. The Ministry wanted a giant statue of Harry in the center, but Harry immediately shot down this idea, instead putting an empty chair to represent Dumbledore's seat in the Headmaster's office. Hermione would reach out and touch the armrest of the marble figure and feel the mentor's wisdom envelop her as if he were there.

There was a small werewolf with a stag and a dog, with two girls in front of them playing with flowers; one girl's hair would change every so often. There was a tall man who would disassemble and reassemble into funny positions. There was a little boy with a potion cauldron in front of him. The statues were not explicit as to whom they were for, but Hermione thought that's what made them more meaningful.

Despite being alone, Hermione would go through her ritual of placing magical flowers by the memorials. She would have thought flowers and trinkets already be placed at the site, but there was nothing. She was confused. She knew she wasn't late; this was the same time they had agreed upon last year. Maybe plans had changed?

After laying her flowers, she started to leave. She offered one glance at the park and saw a figure she hadn't noticed before. They were dressed in gray, moving beside the statue of the boy with the cauldron in front of him. She felt some relief; someone else had remembered today.

Hermione began to walk towards the person, before they realized someone was approaching them. They turned around and Hermione came face to face with the only other person who seemingly remembered. She had faltered in her steps.

"Wh…what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice coming out smaller than she would've liked.

He looked at her with a guilty glance, before bowing his head and walking away from her. It was different from how he used to look at her though, with barely disguised contempt.

"Malfoy, wait," she called out. He stopped, but did not turn around.

"Why are we the only ones here?"

Again, no response. He left her alone in the middle of the park.

* * *

><p>Hermione was alone in the expansive field as she apparated to the Burrow. She was still worried something was wrong.<p>

She entered to see the Bill, George, Harry, and Ron all crowded around Victoire and Teddy, whom Andromeda brought, as Victoire began to clap.

The boys all began to cheer and Teddy, who was a little older, was able to mimic and clap and cheer along with the rest of them. It was a really endearing sight to see.

"Hermione dear, I thought you weren't going to show!" Molly exclaimed from behind her. She gave a flustered Hermione a tight hug.

Hermione looked closely at Molly's face, for any indication that she forgotten the significance of the day. "I was just at the park." She waited on baited breath for the response.

"Well luckily you made it in before the rain storm. Come, I'm just putting the finishing touches on Victoire's cake." Molly led Hermione in the kitchen where most of the girls were congregated.

Ginny ran up to her first. "Hermione, good to see you."

"You look a bit flushed, un peu inquiet," Fleur said.

"I'm fine," Hermione admitted. _But why are we avoiding the elephant in the room?_

Further back, she could see Verity's bouffant hair washing dishes. She was still uncomfortable in her presence.

"Nice to see you, Verity," Hermione said politely.

Verity glanced at her briefly. "Likewise," she muttered.

Ginny took her hand and lead her back out to where to boys were. "Don't worry if you feel like you're late. Mum got an extremely early start this morning. She said she woke up in the middle of the night and doesn't know why. She figured since she was up, she could start baking. And boy, she did."

Hermione shook her head. That sounded partially like her. She would wake up in the middle of the night often, having unconscious flashbacks to the war. Maybe it's the reason the plans have changed and why no one was there to meet her at the park.

"By the time most of us got here, she was nearly done with her roast. We're almost besides ourselves with idle time."

The other girls started filling out of the kitchen, standing behind them.

"Mum must've kicked everyone out," Ginny noted. "I'm going to check on Dad, Percy and Andromeda outside. We can probably help set-up tables or start de-gnoming the yard. I just need to do something…"

Ginny headed outside and took Harry with her under the intimidation of 'if you wanna look at babies, then get some of your own!'

Hermione snuck away to go back to the kitchen to hopefully talk to Molly and clear up the confusion she was experiencing.

As soon as she entered the kitchen, she saw Molly hold a lavender liquid with a shaky hand, before drinking all of it.


	2. Restricting Responses

Based off series by JK Rowling and loosely based of the video game of same name.

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><p><strong>Spring, 1995<strong>

"Lucius, Lucius, whatever are you doing? Playing with your toys?"

"Well unlike some of us, Nott, we can't occupy our time all day by playing with ourselves."

Lucius stood above a cauldron stirring. He was in his study, a smaller space compared to the rest of the manor, decadent in velvet fabrics. The rich earth tones provided warmth that the cold and steely exterior betrayed. It was his refuge. It was his secret, was supposed to be, anyways. His mixture become more and more difficult to stir.

"Damn," he muttered, before spelling away the failed potion.

Nott approached him slowly. "Careful, Malfoy. If the Dark Lord senses your mind is elsewhere…"

"My mind is _not_ elsewhere. I am fully aware to my dedication to the Dark Lord and his cause," he interpolated, but drew his wand against the man's chest, "but I must ask what gives you the audacity to enter upon my study unwarranted and uninvited?"

"Narcissa…"

"Asked him to remind you of a floo call with Snape half past." Narcissa effortlessly glided into Lucius study, directly into his arms. "Honestly, Nott, you are useless."

"My apologies, Lady. I will show myself out." Nott took a shallow bow to the pair of them before exiting the study.

"Lu…"

Lucius placed his fingers on his wife's mouth before she spoke. He listened carefully for the _whoosh_ of the fireplace to signal Nott's departure. Lucius waved his hand to close the door to his study, before speaking to Narcissa.

"Why did you tell him to find me here?"

"I didn't think you'd be here. I'd thought you'd be in another room," she said, apologizing with her tone.

Lucius raked a hand through his hair as he sighed. "I know you didn't mean it. We just have to be more careful now." He paced around the room as he continued. "I fear the Dark Lord keeps sending more and more of the others to the manor to survey it as a potential new residence."

Narcissa's shallow breath told him what she thought of the idea.

"I don't want you to be afraid."

"But what about our son?"

"The safest place for him is that castle."

They stood in silence, digesting that information before Narcissa's curiosity got the best of her.

"What are you making in here anyways?"

Lucius hesitated before he responded. "I'm doing the right thing." He drew her into his arms for comfort.

* * *

><p><strong>Spring, 2002<strong>

Hermione drew within herself for ease as she sat in her office at the Ministry, making a list that so far included two people. Her office was small, but pleasant brick with a tiny fireplace and a wall of windows. It was very cozy– she had it designed to resemble her room at Hogwarts: a courtesy the Ministry abided by for and her position. Her office brought her comfort and calm.

However, her Remembrance Day at the Weasleys unsettled her. It seemed as if no one want to talk about the true importance of the day. Yes, it was nice to fawn over Victoire playing with her toys and eating cake, but the Weasleys always held a respectful ceremony, where if anyone wanted to speak on the memories of the fallen, they could and would. Which would spur stories and tales of mischief everyone got into and everyone would laugh and laugh and cry…

But it never happened.

Usually Arthur Weasley would begin by lighting a candle giving a slight speech on what happened, but it never happened. Usually Harry would follow with a few words of his own, but none of that happened.

She just knew something was off; nobody was mentioning the losses of dear loved ones. Hermione stood from her seat at the enlarged wooden table in the Burrow's backyard, an awkward seat as she sat next to Ron– who sat next to Verity, and cleared her throat to attract attention.

"I would like to say something," she began with a shaky voice. She had everyone's face looking at her expectantly. "About t…today. And what today means."

"A speech for Victoire? How thoughtful, Hermione," Bill said at the other end of the table. "Looks like someone is trying to be godmother…"

A few laughs around the table still didn't steel off Hermione's nerve. "No, I mean, no that's not what I wanted to say." A deep sigh. "I want to talk about the w…"

"Wonderful feast that Molly has prepared," Harry interjected while standing. "You know, I eat your food– the Shepard's pie, the roast…everything about this feast just screams 'home' to me."

Molly looked moved to tears while Hermione sunk to her seat, frustrated and flustered.

"And I can't think of another place, or other people I would rather call 'home' than you all here. And I would like to stay."

"Harry, you know you're part of this family," Arthur stated.

Turning to Ginny, he gave a deep look before replying. "I know. But I'd like to make you part of mine."

He took a knee.

He proposed to Ginny right there. After her exclamations, she jumped up in Harry's arms and cried. And Harry had pivoted to give Hermione a look. He knew too.

_1.__Harry _

Trying to approach him post-engagement was practically impossible, with his new relatives falling over themselves to congratulate the couple and Andromeda cutely explaining to Teddy that he'd be a ring bearer. Besides the fact she caught Ron giving Verity a quick peck in seclusion, which almost made her lose the ham she ate, she decided to promptly exit, leaving her with more questions and no answers.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of seeing those grey eyes, a pair of eyes she hadn't seen in a long time, in the middle of Victor Park.

Hermione gave herself a mental flashback to the past Remembrance Days, and not in one of them could she recall seeing Draco anywhere. She figured his family, outcast by both Voldemort supporters and the Light side, preferred to spend their time in solitary. A self-imposed prison.

But she remembered vividly the feeling she got when looking in his eyes: guilt, responsibility, and self-reproach. Hermione's intuition told her those feelings all weren't mixed up with wartime. No, something inside her knew at the most basic level that he could help her provide some answers to the questions she spouted from confusion.

_2.__Draco_

She was giving herself a headache. She stepped outside her office for tea or a bite to eat, just something to get her mind off things. Until June, her job was slow paced, and she did her best to fill her time with importance. Two months ago, she had proposed a formal eradication to old pureblood laws that was currently floating through the higher chambers of the department. She was quite pleased with herself.

Walking around the Atrium, she saw familiar and unfamiliar faces, most who greeted her out of respect; she headed around the center water fountain of a phoenix, newly built after the war. She walked to find food, but her feet unconsciously brought her closer and closer to the Auror Department.

Harry had been out of his three-year training for a few months now and was seated on the Graphorn Eihwaz squad, meaning he saw some field action, but not too often, and was submitted to desk duty for most of his work. He wanted no special treatment because of who he was and what he's done. The Auror Department divided trainees once they left training to groups from Demiguise/ 0 to Quintaped/ 5, meaning which ranks would be priority troops with–mostly Demiguise members on Department boards and Quintapeds and Fwoopers becoming Hit Wizards, then further separated to Eihwaz and Ehwaz, meaning which members would be deployed to field work and which members would stay behind the scenes for more strategic work. Many new initiates would be placed in the Fwooper and Quintaped subgroups with very few going straight to Runespoor, so Harry's assignment was a surprise. Ron, recently initiated after his three-year training stint, was placed on the Runespoor Eihwaz squad, again by his own merit, but had insisted on taking part-time duties as a Hit Wizard to avoid the downtime as an Auror.

She knew Harry more than likely wasn't going to be in his office. He probably took the day off to celebrate his engagement. Well, he probably didn't, but once Kinglsey got wind of the news, he probably strode his way to the Auror Department and forced him to take a day off. Kingsely was a formidable man friend or foe, so taking no was most certainly not an answer.

And she was by no means was going to see Ron.

She stopped in her tracks and began to turn to walk in the opposite direction, before a flash of platinum blond caught her eye. He never came to the Ministry– not voluntarily. He came in the past for legal reasons, but never did he come to a Ministry mandated function since. So, she was curious to his presence to say the least.

She crept a couple paces behind as he was talking animatedly to another Ministry official she did not recognize. What she wouldn't give for an EE2: the updated Extendable Ear part of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was much more discreet and extended listening ranges to nearly 15 meters. But she didn't need it for that far. As she hid behind the corner to where Malfoy and his companion had wondered to, she analyzed her area to determine the prime listening location, trying to eavesdrop using the slight acoustics of the walls.

"Perhaps they should use a _Sonorous _charm for your benefit."

Hermione froze. She had no idea how he got behind her. But he was. She was sure when she faced him, he'd had that god forsaken smirk she just wanted to slap off his porcelain face.

He did.

And she almost did. Her hand was itching to.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said as she straighten her clothes and herself to stand taller against the blond. "To what to I owe the pleasure of your rare appearance?"

"You owe me nothing, 'Governess'." The way he said her title made her seem as useless as she covertly felt from time to time. It's like he knew her weaker spots and spent no time in attacking them.

"That's the most you've said to me since we've left Hogwarts," she noted.

He nodded. "Hopefully that will hold until our next unfortunate meeting." He began to walk away, before Hermione reached out for his wrist, not prepared for the sharp cold of the strong metal of his left hand. She visibly flinched back, apologies already written across her face.

Back at school, he briefly mentioned a 'punishment' inflicted on his extremities, cultivating in the need for a new left forearm and hand: his dominant hand. The new arm was unlike anything she had seen, more like a finely designed muggle glove.

"I'm s…I'm sorry. I forgot," she whispered.

He self-consciously pulled his sleeve down to hide his prosthetic, before continuing his departure.

She wanted to say more, so she did. "Malfoy, we spent a school year together working in close quarters and got along cordially."

"That was nearly four years ago, what does that have to do with anything, Granger?" His voice began to rise in frustration. Other patrons at the Ministry had began to pass around them, publicizing what she assumed was a private corner, but she wouldn't be deterred from her discussion with him. It may be her only shot for those answers.

She lowered her voice. "The other day, in the park…"

He chuckled darkly. "Of course. This has nothing to do with genuine concern, rather you not being able to mind your business."

"Is there something I should be concerned with?" She looked in his eyes, normally harsh and grey, and began to see a glitter in his left eye. _A glamour charm? _

"You should be concerned with your own matters, now if you'll excuse me…" He tried to leave again, only for Hermione to firmly grab both of his upper arms in effort to stop him, but consequently drawing a crowd to their actions.

She whispered to him, "Can we talk in my office?" but she actually gave him no chance to answer as she walked away, dragging him behind her and to sit him in her office.

* * *

><p>Ron sat himself in her office, standing immediately when the door opened to reveal Malfoy behind her.<p>

"What are you doing here?" What is he doing here?" Both said simultaneously.

Ron had to be the last person she wanted to see; yet she was the first person he needed to see.

Malfoy gave a chuckle. He couldn't pass the opportunity to piss off his favorite redhead. "Well, Granger and I require some _alone _time. She's asked me to look at some of her "legal briefs" and who am I to deny her request?"

Ron turned red.

"Then she asked if she could "get them off", and I gave her my help."

He nearly attacked Malfoy with his bare hands.

"Ron, what are you doing?" She tried with all her strength to hold him back.

"If I use my hands, they can't connect my wand to my crime."

"So fighting like a troll is the only way you see fit?" Malfoy provoked. "Come off it, Weasley."

"That's Inspector Weasley to you!"

She stopped her hold to celebrate at the news. "You've been promoted?"

"Yup," he replied, forgetting all his anger in an instant. "Second time in a month. At this rate, I'll be Commissioner by the end of the year."

"That's most excellent, Ron!" She said proudly. And it's true, she was proud. Despite current situations, she still held Ron in high regard in her life and him likewise.

"But that's why I came to talk to you." He spared Malfoy a quick glance before casting a _muffiato_ around them. Hermione's mouth opened in indignation, but Ron continued on. "I want to tell Mum and Dad, but I'll need to you come with me to Burrow."

Hermione signed in exasperation. "Ron…"

"I know, I know, but I just need to keep 'us' going for a little while longer."

Hermione and Ron had one feud too many. What was a relationship filled with first love anxieties after the end of the war progressively deteriorated after Hermione went back to Hogwarts and Ron went to Auror training for three years. She doesn't remember when they officially broke up, but upon seeing Ron and the shop assistant Verity in a compromising position during one of his training breaks sealed personally any fate she may have had for them. However, Ron never bothered to tell his parents. Arthur and Molly adored Hermione and never saw the appeal of Verity, even when she was solely a shop assistant to Fred and George. So while the Weasleys have been none the wiser, the pair of them put on a relationship for the public eye. And it had been almost a year. Which only served to drain Hermione physically and emotionally.

She was beginning to figure that Ron needed to continue the ruse because of something that had to do with the potion Molly took the other day.

"Is something wrong with Molly?" She asked seriously.

"What? No! Why? _Is _something wrong with Mum?" He responded frenzied.

"I don't know, I was asking you!"

"Oh, well. I don't think so. Bloody hell, don't scare me like that, Hermione."

"So why would you need me? You need to bring Verity and muster the courage to tell your parents the truth. You're not being so discreet."

"What are you…oh. You're talking about Victoire's birthday? We were honestly caught up with emotion, just happy for Harry and Ginny. Long time coming too. And no one caught us, except you I guess. And George caught us after Angelina ran up to congratulate Ginny. He asked how did Verity get here? I just made Mum take pity on her for coming because she was gonna be all alone in the shop. I didn't even think Verity'd make it past the door."

"I really don't care about the story, Ron."

"Oh. Then does it have something to do with the ferret? Hermione, tell me you're _not _seeing Malfoy tonight."

"Ronald, you have no right to tell me who I can and cannot see!"

"Yes I do, I thought we were at least friends!"

"We are!"

"Then as a friend, you shouldn't see Malfoy tonight."

"I'm not seeing Malfoy tonight!"

"Great, then you'll come over around 6?"

"Wait what?"

"Thanks Hermione, Mum will be pleased as punch." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving, breaking his _muffiato _but vocally stunning Hermione.

She sputtered, "That…that…ugh!" Frustrated, she almost completely forgot about…

"Malfoy!"

He left her office sometime during her conversation with Ron. She quickly stepped outside, hoping to flag him down in the hallway before he exited. She'd missed him. And what may have been her chance to ask him questions.

Disappointed, she walked slowly back to her office; almost missing the small note adhered to her fireplace.

_Noon _was all it said. But it was all that needed to be said. Attached to his note was a small advertisement: a picture of a happy family all waving to the camera and laughing, with an address underneath and the words MemMix in bold.

* * *

><p>PS: Thanks to Henny B-F-R for catching some grammatical errors. I did my best to edit *crosses fingers*<p>

Also, the Auror levels are based in Ancient Runes from the Harry Potter wiki.


End file.
